Supernatural Imagines

Slow Death

They say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. All of it. The good, the bad, the ugly. The memories you buried deep within the recesses of your mind and wished no one could find and the dreams you always dreamt of fulfilling one day.

That wasn't the case with you.

You were on the ground, frozen, unable to move.

You were bleeding from more places than you could count but you didn't think you were dying.

Cause I mean come on. Who the hell dies when they're with the Winchesters? Those boys are damn near immortal. You'll come back.

You're not dying. You kept repeating this to yourself as you lay immobile on the ground, hoping Sam and Dean would burst through the door any minute, then Cas would drop by, he'd heal you ... you'll be fine.

The door swung open, light flooding the dark room. But everything was blurry and you just felt tired.

You closed your eyes against the light as you heard the muffled sound of footsteps on the hardwood floor.

"SAM GO GET HER, I'VE GOT Y/N!" The floor beneath you vibrated a little as Dean crashed down on his knees beside you.

"Y/N?" He asked, "Y/N, come on, look at me..." he pleaded, shifting over you and taking your face between his hands, "Y/N?" he asked, voice hopeful.
You opened your eyes just a crack and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. His breath fanned over your face. He gave you a watery smile, "There we are."

"Hi" your voice was barely audible.

"Hi." He laughed a little, "Hi." He knelt down and placed a kiss on your forehead, "You're not dead!" he smiled down at you.

You tried to grin at him but it seemed to take too much out of you. He backed away just a bit to get a look at you and you closed your eyes again.

"Hey, hey, no" he held your face again until you opened your eyes, "You're not closing your eyes, Y/N, not now."

" 'm tired." You whispered

He didn't answer you but you heard the muffled sound of cloth. Something rustling. You tried to turn your head but it hurt too much, so with a sigh [which felt more like loss of oxygen now], you focused on a spot on the roof. It was cracked.

You heard a rip in the background. Dean was slipping a hand beneath you, what was he-

Ow

You flinched.

"Sorry! Sorry, but you know I need to stop the bleeding. I know it's a little tight, Sammy'll be here in a bit. He's better at this."

You just kept staring at the roof. No particular thought or memory playing out in front of your eyes. But then you heard a gunshot in the distance. Your senses seem to snap to attention and the gears in your head roared to life.

Sam. Dean. The Witch. You.

The witch. Spell. Spell?

Your mind was scratching away at a thought, a seemingly vital thought but you couldn't seem to grasp it.

The witch! She threw you to her stupid hound with your hands tied behind your back. It was growling, teeth bared, and you were scooting away from it on your ass.

It backed you into a corner. You heard the witch laugh. She started chanting in ... in ... latin?

She was saying something ... you knew it sounded familiar. You had to tell Sam about how deadly it was. What was it?